


tell my head to tell my heart

by waveridden



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Weddings, in which Martin is also a Von Closen cousin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveridden/pseuds/waveridden
Summary: “The deal was that you come with me to keep me sane, not so you could chat up my cousin.”In which Gerry needs a wedding date, Jon doesn't think about consequences, and Martin has a lovely conversation with a stranger.
Relationships: Gerard Keay & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 19
Kudos: 600
Collections: 2019 AU December Challenge





	tell my head to tell my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the AUcember series, a self-made challenge where I try to write a new AU one-shot every day. You can read all of the AUcember fics in the collection linked above. Title is from Gotta Get Up by Moody.
> 
> All my love to Tam, who helped me come up with this. (Seven months ago, but still.)

The Von Closen estate is massive and ostentatious, the way that only rich people are ever ostentatious. It’s full of things like gates made of ornate metal that could never keep an actual intruder out, and gardens that require multiple people to attend to them every day.

It’s also terribly unwelcoming, although that could just be Jon projecting his own discomfort. It’s not the estate’s fault that he’s here. It’s Gerry’s fault, and so it’s Gerry that he’s going to blame for the fact that he had to sneak out of the massive estate for a cigarette.

At least, he said it was for a cigarette. And he certainly wouldn’t mind having a smoke right now, but he doesn’t have a cigarette or a lighter.

He ends up walking to one of the gardens, one that Gerry had pointed out during his unenthusiastic and prolonged estate tour. Gerry seems even less enthused than Jon to be here, but Jon supposes Gerry has reasons to be unenthusiastic. His mother insists that he come to family events like this, and Jon is really just there to keep Gerry from flying off the handle at some distant Von Closen cousin. Or to help provoke the cousins, he’s actually not clear on which it is.

At any rate, the garden that Jon finds himself in is somehow the least inviting garden he’s ever seen. It’s manicured in a way that suggests that it’s never been touched by human hands before; it’s designed to be immaculate and impersonal. He keeps wanting to snap twigs off trees and kick in bushes, not out of malice but just so things look a little more… well, a little more real.

He’s walking along a path - tasteful cobblestone, of course, completely immaculate, not a speck of dirt to be found - thinking about picking a couple of flowers, just as a joke, when a voice says “Oh! Excuse me.”

Jon startles and looks up. There’s a tall man walking the same path as him, just a couple inches from colliding with him.

“Ah, sorry,” Jon says, and takes a step back to let him pass by.

The man smiles at him, but it looks tense, like he’s worried about something and trying to ignore it. And really, there are only so many reasons that someone would skip out on the huge Von Closen family dinner to wander around a garden. Clearly this man doesn’t want to be here either. And ordinarily Jon would just let him nope in peace, but honestly, he could use as many allies to get through this week as he can find.

So he says, without quite meaning to, “D’you think we could get away with picking flowers?”

The man laughs, although it’s more a startled sound than anything actually humorous. “Sorry?”

“It just… seems like the kind of place where you could afford to take something and nobody would notice.” Jon gestures around the massive garden, and then to an artfully sculpted hydrangea bush. “Like, those little ones at the bottom.”

“I think there are better things to risk my life over than some flowers,” he says cautiously, but he’s not backing away from Jon or running to get him thrown off the estate or anything, so that seems like a good sign. “What do you have against flowers?”

“Absolutely nothing. But I have something against pointless frivolity.”

“Pointless frivolity? Gardens are pointless?”

“They are when they’re designed to look like conservatory exhibits instead of gardens.”

The man smiles, a tense there-and-gone flicker but a smile nonetheless. “Clearly you’re someone’s plus-one.”

“What makes you say that?”

“If you were a cousin or grandkid or whatever, you would know that we’re in the conservation garden.”

“Conservation garden?” Jon repeats. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t really think it means anything, other than being a nice name.”

“Of course,” Jon mutters. “Since I’m a plus-one and only here as moral support, can I be open with you about my distaste for everything going on here?”

“Most everyone has some distaste for what’s going on here.” The other man shrugs. “I heard one of the cousins of the bride saying he was mad that she had to go and fall in love without eloping.”

“Eloping?” Jon shakes his head. “Isn’t that a bit dramatic?”

“Well, yeah, but look at the alternative. Her wedding is driving you to a life of flower-picking crime.”

That’s enough to get a laugh out of Jon. The man looks pleased with himself for a moment, and it makes Jon’s heart skip. He takes a breath and then holds out his hand. “I’m Jon, by the way.”

“Oh!” He takes Jon’s hand and shakes it. His hands are nice: firm, warm, much larger than Jon’s own. “Martin. I’m, ah, third cousin to the bride.”

“Third cousin?” Jon repeats. “And you’re still roped into this?”

“Everyone’s roped into this. Von Closens don’t do things halfway, unfortunately.”

“It seems that way.” Jon sighs. Gerry had always mentioned preferring his father’s side of the family over his mother’s, but he’d never mentioned anything like this. It’s no wonder that he’d described this as cashing in on every favor Jon owes him. Jon owes Gerry a  _ lot _ of favors. “I’m not even sure how Gerry’s related to the bride, but I’m still here.”

“Gerry?” Martin repeats. “You mean Gerard?”

“Ah, yeah, right.” Jon glances away; he always forgets that Gerry’s family insists on calling him Gerard. “I’m really just here for him, you know?”

“Right,” Martin says. There’s a strange note to his voice, and when Jon looks back he’s smiling a strange, plastic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t… realize that you were Gerard’s boyfriend. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered to pick you flowers.”

Boyfriend.  _ Fuck. _

Gerry had warned Jon that he’d be introducing him as his boyfriend. Said that it would drive everyone crazy to know that a Keay was dating someone who was in academia. Jon had agreed, because if Gerry was suggesting something like this then he was clearly desperate for entertainment. And Jon had figured that there was no way that it could backfire, because he wouldn’t want to see any of these people again after this.

And, sure, he doesn’t get… attached, not quickly the way that Georgie does, not casually the way that Gerry does. But it seems like Martin might be attached, judging by the disappointment radiating off of him in waves. And much to Jon’s horror, he realizes that he doesn’t  _ mind _ Martin being attached.

Jon opens his mouth to say - what, that he and Gerry aren’t actually dating? - when he hears someone from behind him say, “There you are!”

Gerry always did have the worst timing.

“Hi, Gerry,” Jon says weakly, because he’s not sure what else to say in this moment. He turns around to see Gerry coming down the garden path. He makes a point of stepping off the path a couple times, leaving bootprints in the dirt. Jon wishes he’d thought of that earlier. He forces himself to smile. “Sorry, needed some air.”

“I can’t believe you abandoned me,” Gerry huffs, coming to stand next to Jon. “I was all alone in there with nobody to make faces at, very rude of you. You don’t even have cigarettes.”

“I don’t smoke anymore,” Jon says defensively, as though that wasn’t his excuse for leaving the house. He can tell Gerry sees through it, judging by the way his eyes narrow, but he forces himself to press onward. “I just needed a minute.”

“Sure.” Gerry looks up at Martin for the first time, and one of his hands snakes up so it’s wrapped around Jon’s elbow. “Hi, Martin.”

“Gerard,” Martin says politely. “Or do you prefer Gerry?”

Gerry glances at Jon in surprise, then back at Martin. “Call me Gerry, if you could,” he says, short and cautious.

Martin just nods. His eyes dart down to Gerry’s hand around Jon’s arm and then back up to Jon. He doesn’t say anything, and Jon feels oddly guilty for an instant.

“Well,” Gerry says at last. “Jon, I have to catch you up on all of the cousin gossip so you don’t seem like such an outsider. Good seeing you, Martin.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Jon adds quickly, before Gerry tugs his arm, hard.

“You too,” Martin says, and Jon wants to smile at him but he doesn’t have time before Gerry is spinning him around and dragging him back up the garden path.

“Is there a reason you don’t want me talking to Martin?” Jon huffs as soon as they’re out of earshot.

Gerry gives him a strange look. “I couldn’t care less if you talk to Martin, what are you on about?”

“You just seem very determined to-“

“The deal was that you come with me to keep me sane, not so you could chat up my cousin.”

“I was not chatting him up,” Jon says, too loudly. And too quickly. And too… aloud at all.

Gerry stops walking to give Jon the most skeptical raised eyebrow that he’s ever seen. “Really?”

“He was nice,” Jon says plaintively.

Gerry snorts. “Give me a break, you eat nice for breakfast.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You need someone who can be snarky with you. Someone with a little grit. Martin’s nice, but he doesn’t have grit.”

Jon frowns. “We were talking about vandalizing the garden earlier.”

“Huh.” Gerry pauses to stomp a couple more bootprints into the dirt around the garden, then glances back at Martin. “Well, you could do worse. You could always date the family disappointment.”

“Seems like I already am,” Jon mutters.

“That’s the spirit,” Gerry says brightly. “Cheer up, we can always stage a dramatic breakup at the reception and then neither of us will ever be invited back.”

“Surprised you haven’t done that years ago.”

Gerry grins. “What, and deprive you of the opportunity to chat up my cousin? I could never.”

“Great,” Jon mutters. When he glances back, Martin is still standing by the bush. It may be a trick of the light, but it almost looks like Martin is holding hydrangeas in his hand.

Jon smiles to himself. A bit of grit, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you also like weddings and fake dating, come say hi on Tumblr/Twitter @waveridden!


End file.
